


Fever

by dango96



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Hate Sex (except it's hate masturbation), Hatred, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Unrequited Crush, or is it???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24987571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dango96/pseuds/dango96
Summary: It has always been easy to suppress that which is unnecessary, that which is human. After all, a tool does not bleed - does not cry, does not yearn. House Vestra’s lessons had always taught him such, and for each new emotion he discovered, he learned a new way to swallow it.But when the professor speaks to Lady Edelgard in hushed tones, when Edelgardsmilesat her, Hubert feels a twist of disturbingly strong loathing in the pit of his gut. When the rest of their class fawns over her, despite her unnervingly blank eyes, he smells the scent of a traitor, like a shark detecting blood in the water.Yet no one else sees the danger. Not even Lady Edelgard.So Hubert waits, and bites his tongue.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 9
Kudos: 98





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

> It's just Hubert angry masturbating.

The new professor does such _strange things_ to him.

Throughout his entire life, Hubert has been many things, but never anything more than what was needed of him. A spy, a confidant, a scribe, a weapon. A tool of great efficiency, molded to facilitate Lady Edelgard’s will, through any means possible.

It has always been easy to suppress that which is unnecessary, that which is human. After all, a tool does not bleed - does not cry, does not yearn. House Vestra’s lessons had always taught him such, and for each new emotion he discovered, he learned a new way to swallow it.

But when the professor speaks to Lady Edelgard in hushed tones, when Edelgard _smiles_ at her, Hubert feels a twist of disturbingly strong loathing in the pit of his gut. When the rest of their class fawns over her, despite her unnervingly blank eyes, he smells the scent of a traitor, like a shark detecting blood in the water.

Yet no one else sees the danger. Not even Lady Edelgard.

So Hubert waits, and bites his tongue.

His hatred grows, calcifies. Becomes an unwieldy thing, unlike his quiet, tamed disgust over Those Who Slither In The Dark, an evil he’d long become used to. She is an unknown in a world of knowns. She is a _threat_. The more his anger rises, the more he becomes frightened - not of her, but of the depth of his feelings, threatening to spill out of control.

And when she pins him in the training ground in demonstration, blank eyes like cold mirrors, her blade to his throat, the hatred burns so hot that it melts into something else entirely. Something that he doesn’t understand. Something that floods his veins like liquid metal, burns away his carefully collected thoughts.

He despises her, he thinks. Loathes her so much. Hates that for all of his plans, his machinations, he never foresaw this _interloper_. He cannot stand her. That’s what this feeling surely is.

It isn’t until she finally climbs off of him that Hubert realizes he’s hard.

And It isn’t until he stumbles out of the grounds in the middle of class that he realizes he is, quite literally, burning up - his face flushed, his heart pounding. For once in his life, he ignores Lady Edelgard calling after him as he runs, long legs carrying him two steps at a time as he ascends to the second floor, to hide in his bedroom like a child.

His chest is heaving from the physical exertion as he slams the door, sits on the bed with his back to the wall. He feels nauseous. His erection, curse its existence, throbs irritatingly against the front of his smalls.

 _What is this? What_ is _this?_

Hubert swears under his breath, thrusts a hand down the front of his pants, grabs himself and twists upward in quick strokes. He feels himself _whine_ at the stimulation, at how different it feels from every time he’s spent privately relieving this base urge, rocking needily up into his own fist.

No matter how hard he tries to force his mind to remain blank, Byleth invades it. The cold stone of the training ground against his back, the radiating warmth of her body atop his own. The sharpness of her weapon against his skin. And her eyes, piercing, seeking, so empty but staring, like she’s trying just as hard to figure him out -

And suddenly he comes, hard and fast, spilling on the front of his school uniform and making an absolute mess of it. Groans escape him as he thrusts his hips, shuddering through his orgasm, more intense than he’s ever had it.

He forces his eyes open as he starts to come down, looking disapprovingly at his wet hand, the dopamine rush in his brain taking a backseat to rationality. What a pain this will be to clean up. It took hardly any time at all, too - how embarrassing. What is he, a teenager?

Well. He should thank the professor for exposing this weakness. One more thing to discipline himself for, one more mistake to correct. Better for it to happen now, in private, than after Lady Edelgard’s ascension to the throne.

 _Yes,_ Hubert thinks to himself. _This was a good thing. I’m still in control._

“Wow. I didn’t know you enjoyed my lessons that much.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of his head as his gaze snaps to the source of the voice, finding none other than the object of his hatred standing there in the doorway, her expression as neutral as ever. Professor Byleth, her arms folded calmly across her chest.

Oh, Goddess. He’d _forgotten to lock the door_.

Mercifully, she’s alone. Hubert can’t imagine what he’d do if Lady Edelgard saw him like this, or if word of this got out to the others. Though he can’t entirely trust Byleth won’t leak word of it, create a rumor, perhaps as some sort of twisted lesson on humility -

“If you like them that much, then we can arrange for night lessons.” There’s something in her voice, something twinkling in her eye - Hubert doesn’t know what it is, but it makes the residual heat pooling in his belly do a somersault. “Meet me tonight in the training grounds, after sunset. Come alone.”

And then she is gone, the door shutting behind her.

Hubert stares blankly at the space where she’d been, eyes wide, his hand hovering awkwardly in front of his crotch and covered in rapidly-cooling spend.

“What?” He utters to an empty room, his mind desperately attempting to make sense of anything that had just transpired.

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed my work, it means a lot!


End file.
